Rescue
by corneroffandom
Summary: With Ryback on a rampage, kidnapping superstars and driving away with them in the back of an ambulance, unlikely alliances are formed in response. Will attempts to stop him be successful?


Still stuck at his apartment in Arizona, recovering from a concussion, Dolph Ziggler shakes his head as he watches on Raw, mouth dry, as Ryback slings Zack around like a rag doll, one shellshock, two... three. He cringes and scrubs a hand through his hair as the monster lifts the Long Island broski up and drags him carelessly back to where his ambulance is waiting, tossing him inside before slamming the door shut. As the van drives off, sirens wailing, Dolph feels sick- even more so than the concussion has yet to make him. He winces and groans. "Dammit, Zack..." He expects some word, a text, anything, from his friend before the night ends, but hears nothing.

By Wednesday, however, he's not alone in worrying- Wade Barrett, bored with nothing to do before Smackdown that Friday, goes to hang around Main Event's arena, spending his time between matches mocking Heath, Drew and Jinder, disrupting their little so-called _jam session_ before the tag match against the Usos. And so he's present, unable to do anything but watch as Ryback unexpectedly interrupts the tag match with his loudly wailing ambulance, walking purposely towards the ring until he catches sight of a cowering Heath, who chooses fight over flight, just to get slammed against the floor and dragged up the ramp to the ambulance. Similar to Zack, he's thrown inside, the doors are slammed shut, and the ambulance leaves the arena as quickly as it'd come. Wade, finding that it's already long gone before he even gets to the exit, tightens his grip on the title sprawled across his shoulder and glares out into the darkness. "Heath..."

He's still standing there five minutes later, thinking over options, when running footsteps stop short of where he's standing, turning slowly to find Drew and Jinder staring at him, wild-eyed and frenzied, struggling to catch their breath. "Barrett," McIntyre pants, pointing over his shoulder into the dark night. "Heath, did he-"

Wade stares at them in annoyance. "No," he snaps slowly. "He's gone." He stands up straight over the two men and glares down at them. "You're rather rubbish at all of this, aren't you? He's your leader, yes? When I was the leader of Nexus, hell, even when we were all part of the Corre, none of them would've left me to get _taken_, no matter the circumstances. And even when Punk kicked me out of the Nexus, Slater and Gabriel knew things weren't right, the group losing everything I tried to make it into, and came to me, wanting to start a new, better group. Because they _knew_ I was dependable. So... is Slater's ability to read people wrong now? That he's working with gits who'll leave him to get dragged off by some brainless brute like Ryback?"

Jinder looks like he's been smacked, and underneath a flash of anger, Drew doesn't look much better. "We were in the middle of a match! Heath had just told us before we went to the ring, no matter what, we weren't supposed to get distracted-"

Wade rolls his eyes at them. "So your leader getting kidnapped isn't supposed to be a distraction? I wasn't aware that that was even possible." Glaring at them, he shakes his head, deducing this whole thing to be a waste of time, and grips his title roughly as he storms between them, determined to continue to search for the wayward ginger without those two slowing him down.

The only problem is he has honestly no idea where to start. He closes his eyes and shakes his head, lips pursed unhappily. "Think, Barrett. You're smarter than that yank..."

He paces back and forth a few times before closing his eyes. "Who possibly has any kind of connections or resources that could help someho-" When it clicks with him, he groans. "Brilliant." Stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans, he storms off towards his waiting rental car, mumbling viciously to himself the whole way. "The things I find myself doing to get you out of these ridiculous situations, Slater..."

To his credit, Alberto Del Rio doesn't outright slam the hotel room door in Wade's face, listening with a faint grimace as Barrett explains what happened at Main Event, its tie in with Raw. "I don't know what you think I can do," he says finally, _now_ about to shut the door in his face. "Maybe get a friend that doesn't annoy everyone-"

"He's targeted two people in a week," Wade snaps, slamming a hand against the wood barrier with such force that Ricardo Rodriguez jumps from where he's standing behind Alberto, causing the Mexican aristocrat's eyes to narrow warningly. "He's going after anyone who is unfortunate enough to catch his eye. What if he goes after Rodriguez back there next? You'd regret not doing anything to help stop him then, wouldn't you?"

Alberto's face tenses even further at this, raising an eyebrow at the British competitor as Ricardo shifts awkwardly behind him, neither exactly pleased that Wade's dragged him into it. Unfortunately, his attempt at forcing Del Rio into helping has some basis- many have targeted Ricardo over the last few months, The Shield, Big Show, Jack Swagger, just to name a couple. "What do you think I can possibly do?" he snaps, pulling Ricardo closer so he can keep an eye on him, his thoughts causing him to feel all the more paranoid.

"You're constantly boasting about connections and influences in places most of us have probably never even heard of. Use them somehow, find Ryback. Help me put a stop to this insanity," Wade orders him, lips pursing as he stares down at Ricardo with some disdain, the ring announcer murmuring to his employer in rapid fire Spanish.

Del Rio listens with a frown, finally nodding. "Si," he tells the younger man, turning his attention back to Wade. "Wait here, I'll see what I can do." He and Ricardo leave Wade at the door, Ricardo finding his employer's cell phone and handing it over. "Gracias," Alberto tells him, resting a hand on his shoulder as he dials a number. "Si, it's Alberto Del Rio. I need your assistance with something..." As he talks on and on, Wade stares incredulously into the room, in disbelief that they'd just left him out there, all but forgotten.

Finally Alberto gets off of the phone and returns to him, lips twisting in subtle amusement as he takes in the annoyance in the British man's eyes. "It's done," he says. "You'll receive a text in a bit about how to track the ambulance that Ryback _borrowed_." Stepping back into his room, Del Rio finally shuts the door on Barrett's face, the dark haired man frowning as he turns and heads down the hall. He's not even made it to the elevator when his phone beeps, the text Del Rio had mentioned waiting for him.

"Huh," he mutters, almost surprised he'd come through. "Well then. Time to get this show on the road..." He's about to drive off, begin the search in earnest, when a random realization comes to him and he sighs, knowing that if _he_ is feeling like this when Heath's only been in Ryback's clutches for barely an hour, those close to Zack Ryder has to be all the more frantic since it'd been backstage news that the Long Island native hadn't been heard from since disappearing into the back of the ambulance on Monday night. Deciding that any kind of help would be welcome in this circumstance, no matter who it comes from, he pulls his cell phone out once more and dials a number he doesn't use that often. "In case you missed it, Ryback's taken Heath as well," he says once the phone is answered, not bothering to say hello or anything else. "I know where he has them."

"Where?" Dolph Ziggler demands immediately, sounds of rustling and static on the other end of the phone causing Wade to raise his eyebrows, quickly deciding not to even ask, relaying the information to him briskly. He even emails Ziggler the link to the GPS tracker. "See you there," is all Dolph says before clicking the phone off without saying another word.

Wade stares at his cell phone, shaking his head in disbelief. "Fantastic," he mutters, wondering how the concussed fool plans on even getting from Arizona to Nebraska. "At least I don't have to worry about that." He stares at the text once more before heading for the exit, eager to get into his car and start the search for his ridiculous former teammate in earnest.

He's just gotten into the driver's seat when he checks the link provided for the ambulance's GPS tracker, swallowing. The van is on the move, only adding to his trepidation. Each lost moment gives the disturbed Ryback more of a chance to get further away with the two men, do something to harm them further. "Hang on, Slater," he mumbles, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the street, following the little dot on the screen, checking it obsessively at every red light and stop sign to make sure he's still on the right track.

The ambulance seems in no hurry to stop or slow its path to seemingly nowhere, however, and Barrett's taken over by a thrill of disgust as he stays far away from the flashing dot. "Come on," he grunts, slapping a fist on the steering wheel as he watches the vehicle appear to pick up speed, getting even further away while he's stuck at a red light. "Dammit, Slater. Why can't anything involving you be easy? At this rate, Ziggler _will_ somehow arrive before I can find you."

If he knew the city better, he'd probably try to catch the vehicle, cut it off on a side street, or at least get closer that way, but this is one of those states they rarely go to, so he doesn't feel like risking it- although getting pulled over by a cop who would possibly be willing to listen would be nice, although he also has to consider that it's probably illegal that he even _has_ the GPS information of the ambulance... He groans and shakes his head, ultimately staying on the path he'd started off with, startled when the map begins to lead out of the city all-together. "Ok, what is that fool doing now?"

Speeding up some, he tracks the dot, biting his lip as it seems to pick up speed as well. "Oh come on," he snaps at the flashing dot on the map. "Can't the bloody ambulance break down_..._" Finally reaching the outskirts of town, he squints at the map and decides to take a chance after all, uncomfortably aware that he won't be able to stop Ryback _this_ way. Depending on which town the ambulance goes to next, Wade is pretty sure he could take a side street and, if not cut off the vehicle, at least erase some of the distance between the two.

Luckily, the next town is some small thing that just barely makes it on the map and Wade quickly finds a desired side street, racing down it as quickly as he dares, finding himself now just a few blocks away from the ambulance on the GPS tracker. "There we go," he grumbles, resolving to take that opportunity again the next time it shows itself to him. It takes a few more three-street towns before he finds himself stopping at a stop sign as- the ambulance itself races past him on the cross street, Wade's eyes narrowing as he takes it in. "Slater," he mouths, quickly hitting the gas and peeling off after it.

They drive on further, Wade keeping it in sight through town after town, until he starts wondering how much more gas the thing could possibly contain, knowing that his own tank is dreadfully close to empty. When it finally pulls off into an empty alley that it just barely fits down, he's shocked to find it's now well after 2 AM, keeping his car on the main street before inching out and shutting the door as quietly as possible, inching towards the nearest building to peek into the alley. Ryback is idly standing between two brick walls, hands deep in his pockets as he kicks at the ambulance's wheels. His driver is nearby, filling the vehicle up with gas from bright red cans, and Barrett groans. _Well, someone's just thought of everything, haven't they?_

He's about to approach, figure out a way to get past Ryback, when he hears a car pull up nearby and a door click shut, all senses on hyperdrive when someone walks his way, the tall Brit holding his breath until he sees the man nearing him. "Ziggler?!" he demands, eyes wide. "What the hell are you doing here so quickly?"

"I caught a flight after your call," he snaps back. "Where are they?"

He jerks a thumb over towards the alley and watches as Dolph ventures that way, peeking at the ambulance and paling under his still noticeable tan as he takes in the driver twisting the cap back on the gas can, Ryback getting back into the van. He ducks away and rejoins Wade, pushing him towards his car. "Move, they're about to leave!" Cursing, Barrett follows him and they duck into the car, the British man blinking as he finds the car empty. "Don't look so shocked that I drove; I'm almost recovered, WWE's just being overly cautious. I haven't been dizzy for about a week. Besides, I wouldn't put it past you to rescue Slater and leave Zack behind." Dolph sneers as the Brit rolls his eyes at him and looks up when the ambulance squeeches out of the alley, rushing past them. "Here we go," he mutters, quickly putting the car into drive and following them as closely as he dares.

Wade's not sure what to expect considering Ziggler is driving, fresh off of a concussion and not even cleared to compete in WWE yet, but he actually drives pretty well. Keeps up with the ambulance anyway, and seems to know the roads pretty well despite it still being a couple of states away from his actual homestate. They follow it quietly for a couple of hours, wondering what condition their individual friends will be in whenever they'll get the chance to free them, Dolph a little more worried about Zack than Heath because Zack's been held since Monday while Heath's only been there a few hours. It doesn't keep Wade from secretly dreading that moment he opens the doors and pulls his wayward former teammate to safety, however.

Heath groans as soon as he lands on the floor of the ambulance, his eyes fluttering. Ryback breathes heavily in the darkness after slamming the door shut behind them, the only sign of where he's at in the bus. "Whatd'ya want with me?" he grunts, falling silent when there's an answering groan opposite of where Ryback is standing. He twists his head in that direction, wincing at the renewed pain stabbing down his skull from the rough landing he'd taken on the ramp. "Who's in here with us?! Who else-" Then it clicks with him. "Ryder? Is that you?"

The Long Island broski groans again, a faint sound of clothes rasping against steel following this, and Heath struggles to crawl towards him. "Sla- Slater?"

"Yeah, man. I'm here." Heath's just reached him, hand on his ankle, when they both freeze, the bus rattling as Ryback storms in their direction. Zack yelps a few moments later and Heath somehow finds his way to his feet, scrabbling through the darkness. "Hey! Leave 'im alone!" He's just made contact with the much larger man when Zack, forgotten, lands with an awkward sounding thump, rough hands immediately grabbing Heath by the throat. He barely chokes down another breath before his spine impacts with the floor, leaving him laying there lifeless as he loses focus on his surroundings.

He's not sure how much time has passed before his eyes slip open, a soft groan piercing the darkness around him. When something rough impacts with his side, he curls up with a louder moan, trying not to cry at the pure agony thrumming through his veins. Zack is quiet and he finds himself hoping, whenever he can piece together a somewhat cohesive thought, that the broski is alright, or as alright as one can be after being held by Ryback for so long anyway. "Brit," he breathes out before another boot finds its mark, sending him once more to the numb nothingness of unconsciousness.

He's starting to come to when a soft hand brushes against his hair, and he leans into it, eyes fluttering. "Wha..."

"Relax," Zack's voice tells him, drawing him closer to awareness. "I think Ryback's filling the van up with gas, I hope that's all he's doing anyway. I can smell it..." His words drift away and finally he shifts, leaning Heath's head against his knee. "You risked yourself for me earlier," he continues on, voice awed. "We don't even _like _each other."

Heath groans, eyes fluttering. "Figured... you'd been held by him for days, I'd only been slammed against the floor before he threw me in here. You'd been shell shocked three times 'fore you even got in here... Didn't think he'd move that fast though." He grits his teeth against a surge of pain, biting back a whine. "Dammit."

Zack presses on his shoulders, rubbing gingerly. "It's gonna be ok. We'll get out of here soon..." His words sound somewhat forced, his hands trembling against Heath's skin, and the redhead sighs, closing his eyes against the darkness again. "Heath? Hey, try to stay awake, ok?" Fear joins the strain and Slater grimaces, trying to listen to him.

"Hurts," he mutters. "Just wanna sleep..." But ultimately he feels bad at the very prospect of leaving Zack alone in the dark with that monster, so he fights the pull of rest and breathes against Zack's arm, spasms of pain stabbing up his spine keeping him from any sort of comfort anyway. "Ho- how can you still expect rescue after so many days?" he finally asks, eyes fluttering as Zack leans closer to hear him easier. "It's only been a couple'a hours and... I'm... like..." His voice fades away, energy draining as his words slur slowly... Whatever he might've intended to say drifts away from him.

He can tell Zack is starting to seriously worry about him, his hand now resting in his hair and tugging slightly as he brushes the strands, shining even in the near complete darkness surrounding them, out of his face. "You can't lose hope, bro. Someone'll find us, somehow. Just hang in there, huh?"

"Yeah sure," he sighs, his head throbbing. "I will." They sit in silence, listening to all of the sounds outside as Ryback paces back and forth, the smell of gas growing all the more cloying and almost smothering. "Hey, Zack?"

"Yeah, bro?" he asks softly, shifting underneath Heath's head subtly. "What's up?"

"If you tell anyone I'm sayin' this, I will deny it or blame a concussion, somethin'..." He breathes tiredly and digs his fingers into Zack's kneepad, trying to keep from crying out in pain as his back spasms again. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all the times that me, Jinder'n'Drew attacked you and Santino. We just wanted to prove a point, and... you were easy targets. It was stupid, and meaningless. Didn't mean anythin' by it."

Zack's touch in his hair slows, comes to a stop. "I know, bro. We're all just struggling to find our way in this damn business, huh? I don't blame you. Not really. It's fine. Now's not the time to dwell on past-" He stiffens and falls silent when the ambulance door opens, subtle lights gleaming into the back of the van before the door slams shut once more, leaving them in the darkness as only Ryback's breathing is audible once more.

"Missed me, boys?" the monster's deep voice asks as the ambulance rumbles back to life, picking up speed once they arrive back at the street. Ryback's heavy, thudding footsteps approach and Heath grimaces, gripping Zack's boot as tightly as he dares. "Cat's got your tongue?" Zack grunts as Ryback once more grips him by the hair, pulling him away from Heath and throwing him into the side of the bus, Heath only able to listen as the broski falls to the floor with a thud.

"Stop!" he exclaims, struggling to his feet just to be grabbed too- he cries out when he's slammed back first into the ungiving floor of the ambulance, pain surging through him nonstop before everything fades away for real this time, his body spasming at Ryback's feet before going frighteningly still.

Ziggler keeps a close eye on the bright red lights spaced out along the back of the ambulance, shaking his head in disbelief when it travels through county after county. "Dammit, where is he _going_ with them?" he demands, smacking a hand against the steering wheel when they approach the state line, heading towards Utah. "If this goes on much longer, I'm going to run out of gas."

Wade swallows, worried about that as well. "Let's take this time to figure out how to rescue those two then. The next time he stops, we better have a plan together. Just so this idiotic game of cat and mouse ends already."

"Sounds good to me," Dolph agrees. As they drive through the dark, lifeless streets, they bicker back and forth on the best thing to do to get the upperhand against Ryback when... the ambulance suddenly pulls off to an empty parking lot and stops, Dolph cursing wildly as he almost misses it, too busy arguing to pay full attention to the road. "Son of a-" he snarls, turning the wheel sharply and sending them onto a side street to double back around and find a way to sneak up on the ambulance.

"Watch it!" Barrett snaps as his surgically repaired shoulder slams into the car door in response to the squealing turn, Wade gripping the dashboard in front of him to keep from faceplanting. "Ziggler, I swear to God-" he growls as the car finally comes to a shuddering stop, Wade cutting himself off as he looks up to find that they're now facing the ambulance, Ryback's driver jumping out of the driver's seat to stretch his legs for a bit. "Now's our chance," he breathes before realizing that he's alone in the car: Dolph's already snuck out and made his way over to the parking lot, his dark clothes blending in seamlessly with the night sky. "Git!"

Ziggler glances over as Wade joins him, smirking at the anger coming off of the taller man in waves. "Problems?" he whispers, biting back laughter as Barrett visibly struggles to contain himself. They fall silent, any issue between them becoming unimportant as they come in view of the ambulance, Dolph glad to see that the driver seems in no hurry to return to the van, Ryback apparently still in the back.

Wade sneaks around the side of the van, leaving Ziggler behind, and grips the handles of the ambulance doors, breathing in once... twice... about to force them open, attack Ryback to get Slater, and fine, yes, Ryder too, to safety, when...

"Hello there." Barrett's barely heard the voice when something sharp and painful impacts with his body, sending him to the pavement. He groans and looks up, finding Ryback standing over him with a vicious sneer on his face. "Tryin' to rescue your little friend in there, huh? Well, I'd say... you failed." He lifts him up, preparing to slam him against the side of the ambulance, Wade's career flashing before his eyes as he struggles to get free, unable to break the monster's grip.

His breath's loud in his own ears, his pulse racing, when suddenly there's a loud cracking noise behind them and Ryback falters, his knees buckling as he collapses to the ground and then slumps, releasing Wade unceremoniously. The Brit's just regained himself when he looks up and finds Dolph standing in front of him, steel chair in one hand and the other outstretched to him to help him up. "Come on," he says gruffly. Wade ignores him, however, pulling himself up by the nearest ambulance handle. They glare at each other for a moment before Dolph grips one of the handles, Wade still clinging to the other, and together they pull it open, staring into the quiet darkness, almost worried to see what's waiting for them.

Somehow Dolph has a flashlight, pulling it out probably from the same place he was hiding the steel chair- and _no_ Wade refuses to think that one over too thoroughly- and flicks it on, flashing it over the interior of the ambulance. Wade's breath immediately seizes as he finds his former teammate slumped near the door, hair covering his face. Ziggler must spot Zack too because he sucks in a deep gasp, releasing it in something that sounds like a groan as he leaps into the vehicle, Wade right behind him as they go to their respective friends. "Zack, hey- hey kid... Wake up, dammit," he demands, kneeling down next to the wall where he's wedged, shaking his shoulder gingerly.

Likewise, Wade drops down to his knees next to Heath, pulling him up and holding him close with a frown. He can't see him too well in the reflection of Ziggler's beam, but what he can worries him, the ginger uncharacteristically still and quiet, his breathing raspy and skin ashy grey under his tan. "Hey, Slater. Come on, mate, open your eyes."

He releases a faint groan but doesn't react other than that and Wade tightens his hold on him, wondering what mess he'd gotten himself in in the hours that had passed since Ryback had taken him during the tag match. _Knowing Heath, it's better _not_ knowing,_ he thinks, looking over at Dolph and Ryder as the Long Island native whispers something that sounds like Dolph's name.

"Zack, there you are," Dolph mutters, helping him to sit up. "Are you- how are you feeling?" When he falters, Ziggler supports him with a secure arm around his shoulders, brushing some of the hair off of his clammy face. "Talk to me, kid."

Zack shakes his head, swallowing. "I'm ok- I think." Grunting, he sits up straight and... "Heath? Where- where's..." As reality seems to click with him, he scrambles, starting to panic. "Heath!"

"Hey, hey, he's fine. Barrett's got him. Relax, kid." Dolph holds him back as he fights, only relaxing slowly as Dolph's words register with him. "What happened, huh? You were both unconscious when we found our way in here." He finds himself stroking his fingers through Zack's longer hair, unable to stop. Shrugging it off as something the partial darkness will conceal, he continues the soothing motion. "What was Ryback doing to you two?"

Zack groans, trying to scrub at his face but missing and swiping at thin air. "He... I don't really remember much, just... a lotta driving and... I'm not sure. He hit the shellshock on me at least once or twice more, then Heath was thrown in here... and... he protected me, or, well, tried to."

"He did?" Ziggler and Barrett demand together, both exchanging glances in the gleam of the flashlight as Wade grips Heath tighter, wondering what exactly that means. "How?" he finally vocalizes his curiosity, relieved when Dolph finally tosses over the flashlight so he can check out the unconscious man more thoroughly.

"He kept distracting Ryback whenever he tried to turn his attention to me," Zack whispers, all of them still and tense as Wade runs the beam over his former teammate's motionless form. "He... paid for it too. He kicked him, and... threw him around more than he did me, I think."

"Git!" Wade hisses, his hands stilling as Heath's back arches off of the floor when he presses down on his side, the British man paling. "Heath?" He curses, looking up at the other two men. "His side is badly bruised- it looks... like the toe of a boot..." They all know what that could mean- internal bleeding, or... "We have to go _now._"

Dolph nods, gripping Zack by the arm. "Can you stand, kid?" he asks tensely, relieved that at least his friend is alright, but knowing that Wade is right- not only does Heath _and Zack_ probably need attention, but the last thing any of them need is Ryback to regain consciousness. One chair strike won't hold him down for long, no matter how much strength Ziggler put behind it.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he says, just to stumble as soon as he's upright, releasing a huffed breath as Dolph grabs and supports him. "Mostly. Better than Heath, anyway," he admits on a barked, annoyed laugh. "Sorry, bro."

"Don't worry about it, just don't expect me to carry you like Barrett is Slater. I'm still recovering from a concussion, you know. Even I can't show off _that _much." He breathes a little easier as Zack takes a few steps, seeming more stable now.

They catch up with Wade as he eases Slater into the backseat of Dolph's car, leaving he and Zack to take the two front seats as he adjusts Heath, laying his upperbody in his lap while he fits himself in the back with him, trying to keep an eye on his breathing and anything else he possibly can in the dark. "Hurry up," he snaps at the two men, anxious to get the ginger help quickly.

"Yeah, yeah," Dolph grumbles, checking on Zack hurriedly before he peels off, all of them relieved to leave the ambulance far behind them. He backtracks through the streets, trying to recall where he'd seen the nearest hospital at, when Wade accesses the GPS on his phone, using it to find the building. As soon as they squeal to a stop in front of it, the dark haired man is out of the car, scooping Heath up and walking quickly inside. A bit shocked at the silence now filling the car, Ziggler glances over at Zack as he fights with his seatbelt, hands trembling anew. "Hey, kid. Relax, you're safe," he mutters, reaching over to help him. "We'll get you checked out, huh?"

Zack nods. "Yeah. Yeah. Um, bro?" As Dolph releases the seatbelt, their eyes lock. "Thanks for... all of this. Finding me, and... and everything."

"Don't mention it, kid. Come on, let's go see what's going on with Slater, and get you looked at." He circles the car quickly and joins his friend on the other side, hand warm between his shoulderblades as they walk slowly into the building, a nurse greeting them immediately. "Hey, my friend here was held with Heath Slater, who was just brought in by an angry looking British guy... could you look him over, make sure he's alright?"

"Of course," the nurse says, barely blinking at his description of Wade. "Come on, let's get some information and I'll find a room for you." As she leads Zack to a side room to get details written down, Dolph follows slowly, relieved when no one tries to keep him in the waiting room. He can see Wade from here, pacing back and forth in front of an examination room, and he almost feels bad for not going over to distract him from glaring at the nurses, but he can't quite bring himself to leave Zack just yet.

Zack looks pale under the hospital lights, bruises visible on his arms and he keeps squinting like he has a headache, Dolph worrying about what this could mean as he explains, with some help from Dolph, about what Ryback had done to them, how he'd been slammed around in the ring and in the ambulance, the nurse listening as she alternates between jotting down notes and checking his blood pressure and temperature. When she directs them out to the waiting room, Dolph can see some dried blood on the back of Zack's neck and he swallows slightly, keeping close to the broski until he's sitting down. "Are you still dizzy?"

He looks like he's about to lie, but takes one look at Ziggler and sighs. "A little. Not as bad as earlier though. I'll be ok while we wait, bro."

"You better be," he mutters, looking away when Zack stares at him. "Shut up." Zack laughs, and they sit in silence for the next few minutes, Wade still visible from here as he waits for word on Heath. "Wait here, and don't move," Dolph warns the Long Island Iced Z before standing and heading his way. "Hey, what's going on?"

"They're taking bloody forever examining him," he says without looking over at Dolph. "And no one is telling me anything." He grits his teeth as yet another nurse walks by, purposely avoiding his gaze.

Dolph stares at him, feeling oddly sympathetic before he glances over at a still waiting Zack, his bruises visible even from this distance. "I see. But you need to be patient, we both could tell whatever was wrong with him needed attention and it's probably just as well that they're taking their time, you want them to be thorough, right?"

Wade grunts, turning a frustrated, baleful look towards the shorter man. "I hate when you make a good point, Ziggler."

Finally he joins them back in the waiting room, unable to pace outside of the door any longer, only a few minutes passing before a nurse comes by to collect Zack, leading him into a side room. Dolph stands to follow but the Long Island Iced Z holds a hand out towards him. "No, bro- wait out here with Barrett, huh? I wanna know how Heath's doing too."

Dolph doesn't look thrilled with this but, taking one quick glance over at the mulish stare Wade's still sending the room Heath's been in this whole time, he nods. "Fine, kid," he grumbles. "I'll be right here if you need anything." It's _his_ steely gaze that now locks onto the nurse waiting for Zack to come with her, the woman blinking and nodding in response, visibly startled by his intensity.

Wade's focus turns onto him after a moment and he _almost_ laughs, the sound that comes from him sounding angry instead. "Isn't this something?"

Dolph blinks, not sure why he's suddenly talking to him, or has such a maddened kind of look in his eyes. "What?"

"The two of us sitting here, fussing over Ryder and Slater," he says. "Half the time we can't stand them, yet... at first sign of trouble..."

Blue eyes narrowing thoughtfully, he lets loose a sharp near-laugh of his own. "I guess that proves they really are our best friends, huh? Spend half of the time arguing like preschool kids, but neither of us want them in trouble or hurt..."

"Speak for yourself," Wade says with a sneer. Dolph just smirks, the two of them sitting in silence until the door that's hiding Heath from view opens, the nurses and doctor coming out, talking lowly amongst themselves. Despite his words, Wade's on his feet and heading their way immediately, trying to see into the room. Dolph grins as the nurse says something that causes his shoulders to lose a fair amount of tension, Wade nodding at her before slipping into the room with the ginger.

Dolph sighs once he's out of sight, standing up and wandering over towards Zack's room, knocking on the door and opening it a few inches. "Hey, kid, can I come in?"

"Sure, bro." When he enters, Zack's sprawled out on a cot, staring up at the ceiling. "You know, I'm used to staring up at the lights, but not quite like this." Dolph can't help but laugh at this, sitting in a metallic chair with no back, spinning it around against the tile floor. "Any updates on Heath?"

"Not that I've heard, but the nurse let Wade in to see him finally... so I'm guessing it's good news. Have they said anything about you yet?"

Zack shrugs. "Not really, waiting on some tests and x-rays and all that fun stuff. They think they're gonna keep me though. Just to keep an eye on me. Since I lost consciousness a few times."

"Smart," Dolph says, knowing better than anyone that concussions or head injuries as a whole aren't anything to play with. "And lucky you, I'm not needed anywhere for awhile because I'm still not cleared to compete, so I guess I get to keep you company til you're released."

The Long Island Iced Z grins sharply. "Heath will _love_ that one, bro. Barrett too." Noticing the confusion in Dolph's expression, he laughs. "Doc was saying something about putting Heath and me in the same room, since we're both in WWE. To lessen the chance of fans noticing where we're at and disrupting the hospital and... whatever."

Dolph's teeth flash as he smirks at this. "I see. Yeah, should be a fun few days ahead of us all then." He sighs and leans back, glancing up at his friend. "I really am glad you're ok, though, kid. When I kept hearing no one had seen you since Ryback had left with you in the back of that ambulance, well..." He shrugs. "Guess I started to fear the worst."

"Aw, you do care, bro," he says teasingly, before falling silent. "But seriously, thanks. I wasn't sure what to think the past couple of days when he just kept driving around and... I guess a part of me was thinking I'd never get out of there, but then he threw Heath in too and I knew something had to give eventually. He couldn't hold both of us forever, or keep taking people, without someone doing something."

"Stop thanking me," Dolph says. "It's not necessary. I know you would've done the same for me, kid." As Zack nods, his eyes looking suspiciously heavy, the Show Off watches him. "Go on, close your eyes. If there's any news on Slater, I'll wake you up."

Ryder sighs, the idea sounding so good. "Alright, bro," he whispers, finally giving in to his body's desperate need for rest. "Thanks."

The last thing he hears before falling completely asleep is a fond but exasperated, "You never _can_ listen, can you?"

Zack's been asleep about half an hour when the door opens, Wade Barrett inching in with a tired but relieved look on his face, glancing around before he spots Dolph staring at him. "Heath's going to be fine. They want to keep him for awhile, to keep an eye on his kidneys and ribs. He's going to be sore for awhile, but..." He sits in another chair against the wall with a loud sigh, glancing over at Zack. "How's he doing?"

"They're waiting for results on his back, which they decided to be thorough about due to his history, but they think he's going to be fine. He had no numbness in his extremities and passed all preliminary strength tests so they say that's good." He sighs. "I guess they were both pretty damn lucky, considering."

"It appears so," he agrees, watching Zack with a troubled look in his dark eyes. "I know that Slater gets a lot of flack for acting before he thinks... but his trying to protect Ryder..." He shakes his head, smiling wanly. "Either he's braver than most realize or perhaps he's just foolish... but he has the best of intentions. Usually. Unless it comes to his music."

Ziggler grins at the description, nodding slightly. "Same could be said for Zack. No matter how many times he gets knocked down, he keeps getting up and trying again, and again, and again..." He rests his jaw in his hand and yawns slightly, wondering how much longer it'll be until they're moved to the permanent room. That reminding him, he looks over at Barrett. "Did you hear that those two are going to be put in the same room?" He laughs as Wade glowers over at him. "Knew you'd like that one."

He huffs and rolls his eyes, turning back to the door. "On that note, I'll go see when they're going to be moved, I suppose."

Dolph smirks and settles back in to watch Zack sleep for awhile longer. "Sure."

Ultimately the only thing that keeps their getting put into the same room from being completely ridiculous from the start is that both men are asleep when the move happens, Dolph and Wade both alternatively worried and relieved for the reprieve. Neither used to Zack _or_ Heath being so silent and still, much less both of them at once, they take back their vigils by the beds, waiting throughout the morning as they sleep on, exchanging glances now and again.

Finally, a little before noon, Zack shifts and blinks his eyes open, yawning lazily. Dolph sits up from the half-dozed he'd fallen into and leans closer, catching his former rival's eye. "Hey," Zack mumbles tiredly.

"Well, it's about damn time, kid," he says, grinning a little as his worry washes away. "How do you feel?"

"Alright," he mumbles, glancing around. "Is Heath- how is...?" he stumbles over his words, too tired to formulate a sentence properly.

"He's fine," Ziggler says. "See, look, he's right over there." He shifts slightly so Zack can look over his shoulder, lips twitching as the broski peers over at the One Man Rockband, blinking slowly as he takes in the still, pale form on the other bed. "He's sleeping, but it's good for him so don't freak out. You should be asleep too, kid. You're both still recovering."

The Long Island Iced Z nods, grimacing. "I know." He doesn't look thrilled at the prospect, however, and Ziggler looks at him in confusion. "I keep having flashes of... memories, I guess, in my dreams. It's ... weird, bro."

"Oh," Dolph muses. "Well, don't worry. You're fine here, both of you. I mean, no one would dare to try anything while I'm here, right?" He blinks as there's a rough sound of throat clearing behind them. "And I guess Wade could be a deterrent in some circumstances too," he adds with his best, smug grin.

Zack chuckles at the growing glower on the Brit's face, raising an eyebrow when his attention is quickly diverted by Slater releasing a faint groan, his eyes fluttering, their voices drawing him out of his own slumber finally. Sitting up, Zack watches as the orange haired man blinks sluggishly, Wade quickly leaning over him. "Slater?"

"Where'm I?" he mumbles tiredly, hand shifting as he fights to keep his eyes open. "Wait," he breathes out, memories returning to him. "Ryback... wha- ... where..."

"You're fine," Wade tells him. "Ryback's not here. You're in a hospital. Ziggler and I brought you and Ryder here." He rests a steadying hand on Heath's upper arm and squeezes slightly when his dark eyes continue darting side to side, trying to sort everything out and look for Zack at once. "You're both going to be fine. Ryder's in the other bed, see?" He points over his shoulder, and their eyes lock as Zack nods at him, grinning.

"Hey, bro."

"Hey," Heath mumbles on a sigh, resting back against the sheets. "So what's the verdict then?"

As Wade reassures him that he'll be fine with some time to recover, Ziggler turns back to Zack and smirks. "So, hospital food, huh?"

"Don't remind me, bro," he groans, shaking his head glumly. "I hate hospital food. What I'd give for some budlight limes right now..."

"Would some cookies later do instead?" Ziggler asks, biting down laughter as Zack's eyes widen before he begins nodding viciously. "Alright then, if neither of you drive the nurses crazy today, I'll see what I can do," he offers, raising an eyebrow upon realizing that Heath's fast asleep again.

"Doubt you'll have to worry about Slater driving anyone crazy today," Barrett drawls lazily, leaning back against his chair to watch the other man sleep. "Except me perhaps, from utter boredom, but there's nothing new there."

"Great," Dolph mumbles, resolving himself to going out to buy cookies for his two fellow competitors as he glances over at Zack, realizing that, no matter how annoying he can be, there's always a strange kind of charm accompanying it that distracts most people from his more obnoxious attributes.

"I want sugar cookies!" Zack says with a self-satisfied grin, crossing his arms over his chest.

Wade groans, resting his jaw in a palm. "And the ginger'll want snickerdoodles." He and Ziggler exchange glances. "Explains a lot, eh? These two must _live_ off of sugar and bad music."

"And equally as bad beer-" Ziggler chimes in, smirking as Zack glares at them.

"Are you serious, bro?! Budlight limes are _perfect!"_

"Shut up," Wade hisses, Heath shifting behind him. "Git." When Slater stills, remaining asleep, he relaxes slightly, though continuing to glower over at the Long Island native, who looks sheepish.

"Sorry, bro, wasn't thinking," he says in a much more subdued tone of voice, wide eyed.

"Calm down, Slater's fine," Dolph tells Wade in a bored tone of voice. "He didn't even wake up." He glances over at Zack, biting down a bark of laughter at the surprised look on his face at Ziggler defending him. _Well, it was half my fault, I guess... I should know better than to goad him about his beer._ "C'mon, we have some cookie shopping to do."

"What, you can't do that on your own?" Barrett sniffs, glaring at him when he realizes he's serious. "I _cannot_ believe this." Even so, he glares warningly at Zack, message clear for him to _not_ disturb Heath while he's gone, as he collects his jacket and follows Dolph out of the room, grumbling under his breath the whole way.

Hours later, Curt Hawkins enters the hospital, charming nurses until they give him Zack and Heath's hospital room number, blinking from the doorway as he peers in at them. Heath is now wide awake, grinning at some stupid story Zack, sprawled at the foot of his hospital bed, is telling from his time at DSW, half-empty packages of snickerdoodles and sugar cookies resting on the sheets between them. Even weirder than that, Wade Barrett and Dolph Ziggler are sitting in chairs between the two beds, listening to the men with varying degrees of exasperatedly amused looks on their faces. He shakes his head in quiet disbelief, taking a minute to tweet before entering the room himself, far beyond curious to learn exactly what kind of madness had led to _this_ scene, brought these four together like this.


End file.
